


Lightweight

by frnkieroo



Series: Sterek Oneshots [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Bounce House, Derek Hale is a Softie, Drunk Stiles, House Party, M/M, Scott is a Bad Friend, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:46:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frnkieroo/pseuds/frnkieroo
Summary: In which Stiles can't handle his liquor.





	Lightweight

**Author's Note:**

> taken from personal experience, tweaked a lot  
> enjoy!!

"No."

"Come on Stiles, parties are fun!"

Stiles raised an eyebrow at his best friend. Scott was too occupied with filling his backpack with the bottles of beer and vodka he had bought with his fake ID to acknowledge the incredulous look on Stiles' face. Stiles still had absolutely no clue how he gets away with anything with a baby face like that.

"Everyone's got a different definition of fun," Stiles muttered. He was sitting on the edge of Scott's bed, glancing around his very familiar bedroom. His chest started to feel weird, that feeling he always got when his friends would try to pressure him into doing something he didn't want to do. Which, being the small ball of anxiety that he is, happened often.

"True as that may be," Scott replied, zipping up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder, "Parties are fun for everyone in general, no matter who you are."

"Breaking news," Stiles said with fake urgency. "On behalf of the entire world population, Scott McCall has declared parties fun for everyone! Even the shy, social anxiety ridden teens who're pretty damn sure parties aren't for them." He forced a cough, pointing at himself.

Scott rolled his eyes, unzipping his backpack and pulling out a large bottle labeled _Ciroc_. "That's what this is for, Sty. You won't even know what anxiety _is_ once you start drinking!"

"Oh, no no. First, you want me to surround myself around god knows how many people, now you think I'm getting intoxicated?"

"I don't think so," Scott said, placing the bottle back in the bag gently. "I know you are."

Stiles didn't have very much experience with drinking. He vaguely remembers sneaking a sip of his father's beer when he was twelve, nearly throwing it up instantly. And he's taken a Jell-O shot. That's pretty much it.

"I just..." Stiles sighed, knowing that arguing with Scott at this point proved to be a futile attempt. He changed the subject. "Who's hosting this party anyway?"

"Derek!" Scott said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Stiles stared at his friend blankly. "Is that supposed to ring any bells for me or-"

"Derek Hale, dude. He throws parties for every occasion and they're always the wildest, most fun, crazy parties. He's got this giant loft that he inherited, not to mention a filthy amount of money as well."

 _Hale._ Stiles tried to remember why that name was so damn familiar. His mind shot blanks.

"What's the occasion this time?" Stiles asked, not that he really cared, but maybe he could stall for just a bit longer.

"Fuck if I know," Scott laughed. "Does it really matter though? It's a Derek Hale party, and you're going. Besides, I heard there's gonna be a bounce house!" He looked so giddy and excited.

"A bounce house," Stiles repeated flatly.

"Yes, dude! Why don't you look excited?"

"Sorry, I'm just so enthralled by the idea of a children's inflatable structure that I can't even show it on my face."

"Don't be that way, man." Scott sighed, laying the backpack on the bed and sitting next to Stiles. "I promise you, you will have fun. I'll make sure of it."

Stiles simply nodded. There really was no way he was getting out of this.

  
-

  
The two pulled up in the Jeep to the loft, which was already blasting music that could be heard from outside. Stiles took in a deep breath, letting it out shakily and gave the steering wheel a good squeeze.

"Hey, look at me," Scott said, his voice a bit softer. He grabbed Stiles' shoulders. "I will stay by your side the whole night if you need me to. I just really want you to have a good time."

Stiles gave a small smile. "Thanks, man."

They walked up to the entrance and before either could even knock, the door swung open and there stood Lydia Martin. The Lydia-goddamn-Martin. She was wearing a short dress and was holding a tray filled with shots.

"L-Lydia," Stiles stammered. He could feel his cheeks getting hot.

Lydia stared at him for a short second. "Do I know you?"

"Ah, we uh-" _We've had classes together since we were in diapers. Oh yeah, and I'm hopelessly in love with you._ "I-I think we had a class together last year... or something..." His voice got so quiet near the end, he was pretty sure she didn't even hear him.

Scott cut in, hoping to dissipate the awkwardness. "So I see you enjoy hosting other people's parties as well?" He gestured to the tray she was holding.

Lydia smirked. "I can't help it, I'm a natural at it. Derek needs the help anyway. Come on in, boys," she said, stepping aside from the doorway.

They were about to keep going when she called out, "Wait!" They both spun around to see her holding out the tray.

"Well don't mind if I do," Scott said cheerily, picking a plastic shot cup off the tray. Stiles hesitantly reached out and grabbed one. He held the tiny cup of liquor to his nose. Man, whatever was in there was _strong._

The two walked farther into the house, watching people drink as if prohibition was going to come back tomorrow.

"Can you teach me how to do that?" Stiles asked Scott, fiddling with the shot in his hands.

"Do what?" Scott grinned, quickly taking down his shot.

"You know, talk to Lydia," Stiles said hopelessly. "Like a normal person."

"The answer, my friend, is in your hands," Scott patted Stiles on the back. "Liquid courage."

Stiles glanced around the loft nervously. There were quite a lot of people here already, and it was only going to get worse. The only way he was going to make it out alive was if he gave in. 

"Fuck it," Stiles mumbled, mostly to himself as he downed the shot. It _burned._ He made a noise, an uncomfortable mixture of gagging and groaning. 

"Don't worry. After a while, it'll start tasting like water," Scott nudged his friend. Stiles didn't believe him at all.

"Scott!"

Both of them whipped their head around to find Isaac a couple feet away, beer in hand.

"Lahey, my man! What's good?" Scott beamed. And with that he walked right off, leaving Stiles to stand in the middle of the ever-growing sea of people. He froze, unsure of what to do with himself. He really wasn't prepared for this.

He felt someone grab his shoulder and nearly jumped a foot. He spun around quickly to face a blonde girl, wearing a leather jacket and a big drunk smile. His eyes widened, not saying a word.

"You look lost!" She said loudly over the music.

"Uh, you could say that," Stiles replied, forcing himself to speak at a higher volume than usual so he wouldn't have to go through the embarrassment of repeating himself. 

"Erica," she introduced herself, sticking out a hand that wasn't cradling her drink.

"Stiles," he smiled tightly, shaking her hand awkwardly. She was cute, but she wasn't Lydia Martin cute. He instantly mentally berated himself for the shallow thought. 

"You should come and hang with our group over there," Erica said, pointing towards the backyard. "But first," she continued with a grin, "let's get you nice and wasted." She took his hand, dragging him over to a large countertop that was covered in assorted alcohol. Shoving a red cup into his hands, she yelled at him to chug.

Stiles stared down into the cup. "I-I don't even know what you just handed me th-"

"Stop thinking and start drinking, Stiles!"

He grimaced, throwing his head back and letting the liquid run down his throat. It burned less this time. "That wasn't too bad," he thought out loud. It tasted like soda, but with a strong undertone of cinnamon.

"Coke and Fireball," Erica said proudly, already pouring his next drink.

 

-

 

Fifteen- or was it twenty?- minutes had passed and he was starting to feel the effects. His head began feeling swimmy and he had to admit, it felt as if he had left his anxiety somewhere on the floor behind him. 

He filled his cup once again, haphazardly making a very uneven ratio of Fireball and Coke. Sober Stiles would probably die of the smell emanating from his cup, but drunk Stiles smelled it and reveled in the scent of cinnamon. Erica took his hand, dragging him off again.

"Wher- where we going?" Stiles was already slurring and he didn't care, he felt awesome.

"Outside, remember?" Erica laughed. When the cool breeze hit him he sighed with relief. He hadn't realized all the sweaty bodies inside the house were making it so hot, as was the alcohol coursing through him. He looked ahead to see a small group of people huddled around a bonfire, laughing drunkenly.

"Guys," Erica caught their attention. "This is Stiles. Stiles, this is Boyd, Malia, Liam, Cora, and Derek." She pointed to each of them as she named them.

Stiles' eyes stopped on Derek. Now he's not gay or anything like that, but damn. Damn. The man looked as if he were chiseled from stone. He had a guitar in his hands but wasn't playing at the moment. They locked eyes, and Stiles could feel his anxiety returning, starting to sober him up. He needed to be drunker than this.

Erica took a seat next to Boyd and pulled out a chair for Stiles. He sat down, directly across from Derek. The fire between them crackled. As if the man could read his mind, he said, "Heads up," tossing a can of beer Stiles' way. 

Stiles made a face. He was pretty sure he still hated the taste of beer, but he wasn't going to turn down a drink from the host. He noticed the girl Cora was next to Derek, sitting pretty damn close together. And for some reason, he now despised Cora.

He let go of his thoughts as he brought the can up to his lips. He refrained from pinching his nose, like a picky child forced to eat some mystery food. And surprisingly enough, Scott was right. It pretty much tasted like water. He downed the thing in no time.

He looked back at Derek, who was now calmly tuning his guitar. He wondered if he was either sober or drunk and really good at hiding it. "So," Stiles started, slightly shocked at the sound of his own voice. "You're  _that_ guy," He said pointedly to Derek.

The man raised an eyebrow. " _That_ guy?"

"Yeah, yeah, the one that comes to parties and gets everyone in a circle to sing kumbaya and shit." Stiles barely knew what he was saying at this point but let it happen.

Derek let out a laugh, and Stiles decided that for the night, that would be his favorite sound. "Yeah, I guess I am. Stiles, right?"

"That's me," Stiles said, stretching his legs. He sighed, looking down at the empty can that was now at his feet. "Got anything stronger than beer?"

Derek smirked, pulling a large bottle of Gentleman Jack from under his chair. He cracked open the seal, taking the first swig himself and then handing it off to Stiles. As Stiles was drinking an unrecommended amount from the bottle, Derek spoke. 

"You like bounce houses?"

Stiles lowered the bottle from his lips, feeling like he was floating now. "Mm, if I could live in one I would."

Derek set down the guitar, standing up and reaching out to Stiles. "Would you now?"

Stiles felt his heart flutter as he took Derek's hand, walking to the large inflatable across the yard. "I can, uh, I can bring this in, right?" Stiles asked, holding up the bottle.

"I'd be upset if you didn't."

And then Stiles and Derek were in the bounce house, jumping around like kids, sloshing alcohol everywhere with each movement. Stiles paused from jumping every now and then to take a drink until the bottle was empty. He couldn't feel his legs.

"Der-ek," Stiles slurred, grabbing onto the man's shoulder before leaning on the netted wall of the bounce house. He pulled him close until he knew he was breathing hot drunk breaths into Derek's face. Derek stared right back at him, unphased by his breath. Now, he wasn't gay or anyth-

Well, maybe a little. 

He could feel Derek's hands slide from his arms to his waist, settling on his hips. 

"So, w-" Stiles hiccuped. Try again. "So what's this party for anyway?"

"Oh, nobody told you?" Derek asked in a low voice. He leaned in, lips brushing against Stiles' ear. "Today's my birthday."

Stiles took in a shaky breath. For a moment there were spots in his vision but he blinked them away. 

"And you know what I want more than anything for my birthday?" Derek's grip became a little harder.

"Mm, I could guess," Stiles closed his eyes before they snapped right open again. "Wait." He put his hands on Derek's chest, attempting to push him away. "How 'bout you go ask your girlfriend?"

Derek took a step back, eyes wide. "Girlfriend?"

Stiles crossed his arms, wobbling as he tried to find his balance. "Don't play s-stupid. That girl Cara, o-or-"

"Cora?" Derek said incredulously. He burst into laughter.

"What's s'funny, big guy?" 

"Stiles, she's my sister."

"Oh."

And in an instant, Derek was flush against his body again, bringing their lips together in a sloppy but satisfying kiss. Derek was cupping his jaw, letting his tongue glide across Stiles' lip, which invoked a moan from the younger one. He left his lips, starting to kiss down his neck, biting down gently every so often. Stiles let go of his shoulders and gripped the netting behind him because this was so good it felt like he was falling. No wait, they really _were_ falling.

Before Stiles could even swear the bounce house felt onto its side, tossing Derek on top of Stiles. 

That was the last thing he remembered before everything went dark.

 

-

 

When he came to, he was outside, but somewhere else completely. He was leaning up against something warm. He sat up, head spinning, to see Derek sitting next to him on the front porch. It was quieter here.

"Well, good morning sleeping beauty," Derek chuckled. 

"How did I get here?" Stiles tried standing up and immediately fell backward.

"Woah, woah, you're fine Stiles," Derek caught him from under his arms, sitting him back down. "You blacked out for a few minutes."

"Did you seriously drag my unconscious ass out of a bounce house? My hero," Stiles giggled. The whole world was spinning back and forth around him and he swayed along.  He leaned back on Derek's side, taking a deep breath and wondering how the hell anyone could smell this good after a few hours at a sweaty party.

They sat in silence for a minute before it hit Stiles. 

"Hale," Stiles breathed out. Jesus Christ, how did he not recognize the name? "The Hale Fire."

He felt Derek immediately stiffen. Sober Stiles would have taken this as a huge cue to not continue, to change the subject entirely. But sober Stiles was nowhere to be seen and in his place was stupid drunk Stiles. "Y-you're so sole survivor of the goddamn Hale Fire." His father had worked on the case when he was a kid, not mentioning the gruesome details of the event but telling Stiles that a kid a few years older than him had survived.

There was a long and awkward pause. "Not the sole survivor."

Stiles scrunched his brows. His drunk brain couldn't process this. "But- but everyone di-"

"My uncle and I made it out alive," Derek cut him off, and even drunk Stiles could hear the irritation in his voice. 

"Fuck, 'M sorry I even brought it up," Stiles slurred, feeling a twinge of guilt under all the giddy drunkenness. He sat up and turned to face him, hoping his face could say a better apology than his words.

"You're fine. Let's just change the subject, yeah?"

And before Stiles could reply he felt something rising in him. Was it anxiety? Was it infatuation?

Nope. It was vomit.

And it was all over Derek's lap.

"Fu-" He felt it again, but this time had the decency to turn away and vomit on the porch. It burned even worse coming back up. 

"Alright buddy, I think you've had enough for tonight," Derek decided. He hooked his arm under Stiles and lifted him up. Stiles was practically dead weight at that point, giving absolutely no effort in standing up.

"'M sor..." Stiles mumbled. Now felt like a good time to go to sleep.

"Hey, hey," Derek snapped his fingers in front of Stiles' face, waking him up with a sharp intake of breath. 

"Hm?"

"Give me your keys."

"I c'n drive jus' fiiine, Der."

Derek was unconvinced. "I'm sure. Hand them over and point to where your car is, I'm taking you home."

Stiles grumbled, fishing through his pocket and reluctantly giving the keys up. He pointed in the general direction of his Jeep. "Th' blue one." Stiles closed his eyes for a moment before being shaken awake. He was standing in front of the passenger door. "Did we just teleport?"

"God, you're lucky you're cute," Derek groaned, opening up the door and watching Stiles climb in. "You've gotta stay awake to give me directions, alright?"

"Aye aye, cap'n," Stiles said with a laugh.

As Derek got into the driver's seat and started the engine, Stiles rolled his head to look at him. What a good-looking guy, fuck. Then he realized.

"Wa-ait a minute. You're leaving your own party?"

"It's okay, Lydia was more of a host than I was anyway."

And for once, Stiles' heart didn't jump at the sound of that name. No, he was much too distracted by the muscular, scruffy, black haired man next to him.

He forced himself to stay awake as he guided Derek through his neighborhood. Soon they were in Stiles' driveway, and he heard the engine turn off. "Just wait," Derek said, hopping out of the car and walking over to the passenger side. He opened the door and stuck out his hand.

"Ohh, a gentleman," Stiles smiled, taking his hand and stepping out, taking a minute to find his balance. He started towards his front door before he stopped, spinning around to see Derek leaned up against the Jeep. "Uh, you can come in, Derek."

"I don't live that far, I was just gonna walk ba-"

"Nuh-way. I'll drive you back in the morning, c'mon."

They stumbled into the Stilinski household, clasping their hands over their mouths to suppress drunken giggles. "Shh, shh, my dad's home."

They went upstairs as quietly as they could, rounding into Stiles' bedroom. Derek kicked his pants off, which took Stiles by surprise before remembering they were covered in his sick. He sat on the edge of the bed, pointing to the drawer where his pajama pants were. Derek put on his favorite Batman pants, the ones that even Scott wasn't allowed to borrow. They looked right on him.

They both fell back onto the bed, pulling themselves close to each other. Derek leaned in before immediately turning away. "Vomit breath," he stated simply.

""M still cute though, right?" Stiles said, followed by a hiccup.

"The cutest," Derek reassured him. He grabbed Stiles by the waist, positioning him so that Stiles' back was against his chest. 

There may have been an almost complete stranger in his bed, but that was for sober, hungover Stiles to worry about in the morning. For now, he snuggled himself closer into the man's embrace.

"Happy burrday," Stiles said as he felt warm unconsciousness come over him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments/critique. You help me become a better writer.  
> I'm tempted to write a second part of the morning after and such but who knows
> 
> *I've looked back and had to edit a bunch of dumb mistakes like five times. Sorry if there's any repeated sentences/parts that don't make sense.


End file.
